


Didn't I My Dear?

by GalacticTwink



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Autistic Dennis Reynolds, Childhood Trauma, Dennis Reynolds POV, Dissasociation, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Supportive Mac, Trauma, a mess, macdennis isnt the focus, more tags, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 23:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18418586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticTwink/pseuds/GalacticTwink
Summary: Dennis had feelings the whole time





	Didn't I My Dear?

**Author's Note:**

> Hnn I just needed something to push out the feelings yknow

“I’m fine,” I grumble, pushing Mac away when he turns to grab onto me again. I roll out of bed, shoving my hair up out of my face roughly to watch where I’m going as I stumble towards the door. “Don’t.” I warn before Mac can even move, not wanting to look back at him. I don’t want to see his face right now; the first thing I saw after I jerked awake. They stopped when I started sleeping with Mac, I thought they were gone. I thought I wouldn’t see it anymore. God, I really thought it would be that easy didn’t I?

I don’t quite make it into the other bedroom, dropping down onto the ground just in front of the door- tucking myself against the wall just beside the frame. The tight space makes me feel closer to myself, but everything else just a little further away. Everything goes out of focus, blurring out at the edges and pulling all the meaning from what’s in front of me. I can barely place where I am. Barely feel the wall at my back keeping me up. 

I run a hand through my hair, curling my fingers tightly and pulling harshly. That, I can feel. That can tell me I’m still here, making me blink to try and bring now back. I remind myself of the date under my breath. The month, my address, anything. 

“Dennis, Dennis Reynolds, Dennis Alexander Reynolds.” my name doesn’t feel quite right on my tongue, leaving a sour taste in my mouth after I’ve said it. Like it’s wrong. Was that wrong?

“Philadelphia.. Where’s Philadelphia?” I mumble the question under my breath, getting hung up on that while I’m placing myself. I groan, swinging my head back and hitting it against the wall behind me. The tingle spreads from the back of my head, ending without the dull throb I was expecting. As if I never felt it at all. I look down at my legs, pulled tightly up to my chest. My skin is bare, pale and dotted with small red scabs; each one a perfect circle even after being scratched open again and again. 

I rake my short nails across my skin, pink blooming behind them followed closely by a sharp sting. My fingers circle in to glide along my thighs, making me swallow. I push my legs apart sharply, hands shaking. When I squeeze my eyes shut I can still see. My nails dig harshly into my skin, seeking comfort in the constant bite of pain. I sob, though my eyes are still dry, gasping for breath even though it feels like it’s the air that’s choking me, twisting inside my lungs until it burns. I curl in onto myself, grabbing at the collar of my shirt and pulling; knotting the fabric in my hand until the back is straining against my neck. I choke. It’s like trying to breathe underwater, it’s like I’ve forgotten how to breath altogether. Until I can. 

It hurts, worse than being without, making me cough and sputter as I gasp. 

My face screws up, lips trembling and pulling apart to make the sob that racks through my body that much louder. The sound almost scares me, barely able to tell that it did come from me. I whine, the high noise dragging on as tears splash down my face. I’m trembling now, still trying to force myself to hold it in after the well already broke. 

Teardrops wrap around my skin, falling onto my shirt and legs. I let them go, rocking my whole body back and forth with the choppy rhythm of my breathing. Something hurts. Maybe everything hurts. My chest is heavy, weighed down by every beat until it feels like the weight could crush me. When I open my eyes I can see again, the room around me in soft focus around the tears still in my eyes. There’s a full bottle of water on the floor next to me, the seal already broken but still filled to the brim. 

My fingers are still shaking, touching the plastic and recoiling at the cold before trying again. The cold water burns going down, stinging even after I’ve downed more than half and sitting heavily. My head hurts, pounding at both temples and the back where I hit it. Even my eyes hurt, begging for the sleep that was interrupted. I don’t know how long it’s been, light shining through the blinds now. 

I struggle to lift myself, legs shaking and bending in as I put my weight onto them. I must be getting up there again I grab onto the table, leaning heavily onto it to let my vision go black; white specks dancing in front of my eyes until the apartment fades back n. I fumble to pull the blinds, the string screeching in protect and grating my ears. The sun is bright, still climbing into the sky to sting my eyes. The window is heavy, taking both arms and all my strength to push open; blasting me in the face with cold morning air. I take a deep breath of it, closing my eyes to just let it wash over me; letting it blow away my thoughts. The rustle of leaves and the breeze itself fills my ears, replacing the beating of my heart. It helps me m=find my way out of my own head, dropping away everything i’d been thinking about before. 

The next time Mac comes out to check on me the tears have dried on my face, caked onto my skin and making my eyelashes crusty. I’m shivering, but I feel so much more than before. More here, more alive, more me. More now. My breath comes shuttering out, trembling stopping when something warm wraps around me. 

The sound of a bird singing brings my attention back to the throbbing of my head, but sigh almost peacefully. I let my head lull to the side against the soft, warm chest supporting me; legs having long gone out when I no longer needed to stand on my own. I know exactly where I am.

**Author's Note:**

> wc/1026
> 
> Hey I'm on tumblr [ here ](https://galactiktwink.tumblr.com) and I'd love for you to stop by my blog! I love feedback and I love taking requests! I promise everything I write isn't depressing
> 
> Yes, I'm fine. The point of a vent is to feel better


End file.
